


The Difference

by 256NatLiz



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Adoption, Orphans, Same-Sex Marriage, Same-sex adoption, Vent story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25556353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/256NatLiz/pseuds/256NatLiz
Summary: Which would you rather: parents who love you, or parents who berate you for all the "wrong" you've done?Why does it matter their genders?
Relationships: Friendship - Relationship





	The Difference

Travis laughed as Seamus quickly stuffed the few things he called his into his hole-riddled backpack. “Why are you so excited?” he jeered. “You’re getting adopted by two women! That’s just not right!”  
“So?” Seamus retorted. He looked at his stuffed rabbit. “They seem nice. They said they have a dog named Sadie, and a cat named Roger. And they can’t wait for me to meet them!” With a smile, he placed the rabbit into the bag and zipped it up.  
Shaking his head, Travis blocked Seamus’s path to the door. “It’s still not right. Two women?! Who’s going to teach you how to hunt? Or get a job? Or math homework?”  
Seamus smiled. “My new moms will. If they can get through the adoption process, then teaching me math will be a piece of cake.” And he shouldered past his old roommate.  
Travis was left staring at nobody. “Oh yeah?! Well… well my new parents are way better than those lame lesbians! My new dad hunts every weekend, and he’s gonna teach me how to use a gun! AND a bow and arrow!”  
But nobody was there to hear his boasts anymore.

Three years later, Seamus and Travis crossed paths. Their schools were football rivals, and tonight was the homecoming game for both schools.  
Just before halftime, both schools’ bands were in the locker rooms for last-minute instrument tune-ups and uniform straightening.  
“Travis?” Seamus called. Travis turned and saw his old roommate, wearing his rival’s band uniform and holding a trombone. Seamus smiled. “Wow, you haven’t changed a bit!”  
“Neither have you, dork,” Travis retorted back. His tone held the same contempt it always had, but his smug expression was gone. Instead, Travis’ eyes were dull, and he cowered around his trumpet as if protecting it.  
Seamus noticed the change in his old roommate/bully, but didn’t want to say anything while they were surrounded by fellow classmates. “How’re your parents?”  
Travis flinched. “They’re fine. Better than fine. Dad took me hunting last weekend. Got a big boar. We’re gonna have bacon and pork chops for months!”  
A girl turned and addressed Travis. “Didn’t you say you kept missing it, so he had to finally kill it? And then said he should’ve shot you instead, that’s how useful you were?”  
Travis shook. “Shut, UP, Sophia!” He turned on the girl, arm cocked back to punch her, when the halftime buzzer went off.  
Seamus gave Travis a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry he’s not quite what you wanted.” Then his face lit up with an idea. “Maybe you could come over some time! Get away for a bit. You’d love our dog, Sadie. She’ll play fetch all day long if you let her. And Mother loves cooking for my friends.”  
“Seamus!” the band director called. “C’mon, man! Stop dilly-dallying with the enemy!”  
Seamus looked back and stuck his tongue out. “Coming!” Then he turned back to Travis and held out a hand. “Well?”  
Travis looked from Seamus, to his hand, and back to Seamus. Taking a sharp grip off his trumpet, he shook Seamus’ hand.  
“If my folks’ll let me, sure. Just… can’t tell ‘em you have two of ‘em.”  
Seamus smiled. “I understand.”  
“Seamus!” another trombone player called.   
With a final nod, Seamus left Travis in the locker room, surrounded by some very confused band members.  
Out on the field, Seamus could hear his moms call out his name. He smiled so wide at the ground his cheeks hurt, and his eyes filled with tears.  
But he couldn’t cry. Not for his school, not for his proud moms, not for the old friend whose life wasn’t fair.  
All he could do was play his heart out. Because he was free to play.


End file.
